Guilt and Love - (The Life of a Lonely Forensics Officer)
by Unipugs at 221b
Summary: Set after the events of The Reichenbach Fall, Anderson is coping with the guilt of Sherlock's suicide and his long-term crush. Cue Molly Hooper. Spoilers for series three. Anderson/Molly and maybe others in the future (sorry, I'm not really sure yet!) [sorry for literally never updating, I've not given up!]
1. Chapter 1: The Six Stages Of Grief

Guilt and Love – (The Life of a Lonely Forensics Officer)

 **A/N: Hi, this is my first time so it might be a bit unpolished. I didn't think there was much about Anderson in focus so let me know what you think! It might seem a bit weird but I have a kind of plan in my head for the Anderson/Molly ship.**

Chapter 1: The Six Stages of Grief

After the events on St Bart's rooftop Philip Anderson's life was never the same.

First of all, the guilt. He felt he was the one who had tightened the noose on Sherlock's neck, made it all just a little harder. At first he wouldn't talk, wrapped up in the grief and shame of the detective's death. After six months of solitude he reached a stage of denial. He started a sort of fan club called 'The Empty Hearse' claiming Sherlock's faked suicide. They shared theories about how it could have been done and searched all through the news.

Anderson hated himself for what he and Donovan did but what he hated most was the tiny, niggling guilty pleasure. For Philip Anderson loved Molly Hooper. He always had but she loved Sherlock and Sherlock hated Philip. But surely even while blinded by love she would have realized what an awful man the detective was. While Anderson had never said a bad word about her Sherlock seemed to go out of his way to humiliate and scorn her. It's not even like Philip never saw her. She helped him with murder cases all the time. It wasn't fair, why did that man always have to one up him? So although he hated himself for it, deep down he was ever so slightly pleased Molly would be lonely enough for him to make a move.

Anderson strolled down to St Bart's. He walked to the mortuary and found Molly packing up.

"Oh, were you just going?" he asked bravely into the silent room.

"Why, what do you need?" Molly queried. Philip walked further into the brightly lit room and would Molly with a red, tearstained face.

"What's wrong? Have you been crying?"

"It doesn't matter about silly old me. What are you here for?" she smiled a bright but fake smile, wiped her face and bit her lip anxiously.

"It doesn't matter now, how are you?" avoiding the question because he hadn't any reason other than to see her. His face turned red before asking, "Would you- would you like to grab a coffee?"

This question reminded her of asking Sherlock the very same question. She bit her lip a little harder, "I'm really sorry, but it's a little soon after, you know…"

"Oh! I'm sorry to insinuate such a thing but I meant as in a good friend. Just- to talk- and stuff," he stuttered, taking it slow.

"Well… Sure, I think that would be quite nice actually."

Anderson smiled. It would take a while, but he was finally getting somewhere.

 **A/N: Sorry for any typos and stuff. Next chapters will hopefully be longer.**


	2. Chapter 2: Coffee, Cake Crumbs, Crying

Chapter 2: Coffee, Cake Crumbs and Crying

 **A/N: Hi, I'm trying to reduce the speech but this chapter is about them talking so bear with me. Any suggestions in the reviews would be appreciated. I hope you're enjoying this series so far, let me know what you think.**

He's strange, Molly Hooper thought, looking at him in the cosy café. He had never approached her before yet now he was acting all friendly. Weird. They chatted blandly about work for a while. When the waitress arrived, they ordered their food and waited patiently for it. Philip decided to start speeding things up.

"So, what's wrong?" he inquired.

"Well, it's just, the whole thing with," she gulped, "with – Sherlock!" She tried to keep it together but failed miserably.

"It's okay, he wouldn't want you to be upset!" Anderson comforted.

"That's only because he doesn't like emotions at all!"

Anderson didn't know what to say to that, mostly because it was true. Saved by the waitress, their food arrived just in time.

"One slim latte with syrup and strawberry Victoria sponge, one espresso and chocolate cake," she announced, placing down the plates. They ate in silence, Molly's face stained with tears.

"Is that the time?" Molly said, shocked, "I'm sorry, I've got to go!"

They spent a small while just awkwardly hugging. After a while molly pulled away, sniffling.

"Well, I'll see you, um, later, I guess," she stood up, "and thank you for today, by the way."

"Glad to see you smile again." And with that they parted ways.

 _He walked through the lonely graveyard, his face as white as a sheet. He walked solemnly up to the detective's grave, silent tears streaming down his face. He cleared his throat and started a speech about the poor man who had died because of his hatred. A voice shocked him. The voice was very familiar. And in an ominous, deep tone it told him "Don't worry, it wasn't your fault…"_

"What the hell is that?" DI Lestrade sniggered.

"Nothing!" Philip Anderson, slamming the laptop shut, "Just a bit of writing, that's all."

"Yeah, about you and Sherlock! He's dead, get over it!"

"I believe in Sherlock Holmes," Anderson insisted.

"So you keep on telling us. But that's not gonna bring him back now, is it?"

"I believe in Sherlock Holmes."

"Whatever, just get back to work," and with that Greg left.


End file.
